Quinntana Week 2014
by empresskris
Summary: Quinntana Week 2014: Seven chapters showing "snapshots" of the same universe to fit the themes for Quinntana Week 2014. All AU however (do I write anything else!) Thanks to Charley for being my loving Beta. Pretty much all of this is fluff. I thought it'd be a nice change of pace. It's just a bit of silliness really...
1. Chapter 1

**Day 1. Quinntana Begins**

**The One Where They Meet**

Santana gives the doorman a small nod as she walks into the bar. She glances around the dimly lit room briefly, noting how it's a moderate sized crowd for a Tuesday night. The sounds of quiet conversation and soft music fills the air as she makes her way to the back corner. It isn't an overly fancy place but it's far from being a dive. Plus, it's far enough away from the university to keep the college kids at bay, giving the place more a more mature feel.

This place has class and a certain charm that Santana takes great pleasure in. Which is the reason why she insists on meeting Puck here when she returns home.

She slides off her jacket as she approaches their usual table. Puck is already there as he nurses a beer, his Mohawk freshly trimmed and his muscle tee tighter than she remembered. With a roll of her eyes, she drops her leather jacket on the table and pulls up one of the empty chairs, falling into it with a heavy sigh.

She runs her hand through her slightly disheveled hair and yawns. She's exhausted after her redeye flight, but regardless, sheis in desperate need for a drink. After getting home, she threw on a red, low cut, fitted shirt and tight, dark jeans with knee high black boots, left her suitcase by the door and headed to the bar.

Puck runs his eyes over her body with a smirk. "Rough trip?"

She reaches for his untouched glass of water and plucks out the straw, dropping it on the table. "Not too bad," she mumbles taking a long sip. Not that she would admit otherwise.

"Any trouble?" He wonders checking his phone.

"Nah. Just the usual," Santana leans back in her chair and stretches her arms over her head. "Took a nice hit to the head though. That's always fun," she sighs. She really is exhausted. "How are things here?"

Puck snorts and shakes his head. "Schue is starting to lose his mind. He's getting reckless with assignments. Power hungry or some shit."

"Yeah, saw that one coming a year ago in Dubai," Santana says stretching out her arms.

"Oh, yeah, Dubai," Puck muses sticking his phone in his pocket with a smirk. "Now that's a business trip I'll never forget," he grins. "Kitty was so hor -"

"I remember," Santana interjects with a groan. "I was there, remember? I don't need a recap."

"How long are you back?" He asks bringing his beer bottle to his lips.

"A few weeks. Then I head to Venezuela." Santana shakes her head. I need a vacation. I'm getting too old for this shit." She places the water back down in front of him.

Puck leans back in his chair with a smug expression. "You know, you would've been back a week ago if I had come along. Just shows how much you need me."

"In your dreams, Puckerman," she says absently as her eyes rake over the people filling the space.

"No, I dream about other stuff," he counters dreamily. "Like you and me on the beach at sunset and you jogging topless to me with open and willing arms," he smiles to himself as he stares across the room at nothing, lost in his daydream. "And open and willing other parts of your body…" he adds as an afterthought.

"Mmm," she hums; her eyes finding pause at the bar.

Puck turns towards Santana and narrows his eyes as he watches her staring into the distance. "'Mmm'? Are you serious? What are you looking at?" He follows her gaze until it lands on a nervous looking blonde, sitting alone at the bar picking at her dress. He rolls his eyes. "Figures. You're not back five minutes before you go looking for some hot piece of ass to keep you company for the night. I should've known you couldn't keep it in your pants for long."

Santana ignores his taunting and stands abruptly from the table, her eyes still fixed on the fidgety blonde. "Hey! Are you seriously going over there?" Santana walks away from the table towards the bar, Puck calling after her, irritated. "We were supposed to debrief!"

Santana stops at the other side of the bar, motioning the bartender over and ordering a drink. When he returns she inquires about the blonde at the other side of the bar.

The bartender smiles and goes to add another drink to Santana's order. While he's gone, Santana leisurely rakes her eyes over the girl. She smirks as the girl downs the last of her wine and looks down to check her phone. She lifts her eyes to look around the bar nervously for a brief moment before looking back down at her phone.

The bartender brings the second drink to Santana with a smile. Santana nods her head in thanks and makes her way in the girl's direction, both drinks in hand.

She places the glass of Cabernet in front of the blonde and leans casually against the bar. "It looked like you could use another one. Blind date?" she asks as the blonde looks up at her confused.

"That obvious?" The girl asks blushing. Santana gives her a sympathetic look. The blonde examines her closely, a curious look on her face. "You wouldn't happen to be…?"

"No, no. Unfortunately I'm just here for a few drinks," Santana says regretfully.

The blonde's shoulders slump and she takes the wine off of the bar. Looking down at it, she swirls the deep red liquid around in the glass. "This always happens. I'm early, they're late or they don't show."

Santana arches an eyebrow. "You've been stood up before?" She finds this entirely difficult to believe. She's never seen someone as beautiful as the nervous blonde beside her. Everything about her screams elegant; her long curled hair falling past her shoulders, her curious honey colored eyes, and shy smile…

"Once or twice," the girl admits taking a very long sip of the wine. It's only after she swallows that a thought dawns on her. "This is my favorite. How did you know what I liked?"

"Well," Santana starts, "it's all about reading people. You're wearing a designer dress so that says you have good taste and you have money," she trails her eyes down Quinn's body slowly and appreciatively. "You're shoes scream classy, and your body language appears nervous, but you're confident enough to meet someone here alone," Santana brings her own glass to her lips. "Am I close?"

Quinn eyes her suspiciously. "Maybe," she drawls slowly, not entirely buying Santana's story.

"I asked the bartender," Santana finally confesses with a smile.

Quinn laughs and shakes her head. "Well thank you for the drink," she smiles.

Santana nods, her eyes never leaving the girl, making the blonde blush. "I just don't see how it's possible. You getting stood up. Did you not post a picture on your online profile? Because…" she runs her eyes over Quinn and lets out a low whistle.

The blonde quickly shakes her head, her eyes wide. "Oh no! I don't date through dating sites," she says after taking another sip of wine. "Although, withmy track record it'd probably go a lot better." Santana arches an eyebrow. "I let my friends set me up," she explains.

"Ouch," Santana winces. She'd done that once or twice. It never worked out and was awkward for everyone involved.

"Yeah," the girl leans further towards the bar.

Santana can't help but let her eyes wander down the girl's sleeveless V-neck black dress to the tops of her cleavage. Her eyes travel down to her crossed legs, the dress stopping mid-thigh, down to her stylish black pumps upon her feet. The woman is absolutely gorgeous. "Well you look amazing. Whoever it is that managed to get a blind date with you is extremely lucky."

The blush Santana seemed to be good at causing was back and the blonde looks up at her with a small smile. "Thank you," she says tucking her hair behind her ear. She turns her body to face Santana and places the wine glass back on the bar. "So did you come here alone or - "

"Quinn?" The hesitant voice stops the blonde short with whatever it was she was going to ask and both girls turn towards the interruption. "Are you Quinn?"

The intruder is short, with red hair and freckles splattered across her nose. Her hair is wavy and shoulder length, her bright blue eyes switching back and forth between Quinn and Santana curiously. Santana sighs. Quinn's date was attractive.

"Yes," Quinn confirms, her eyes glancing to Santana once more.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," the girl breathes in relief. "I had so much to finish up at work and then I got stuck in traffic when I was going home to get ready." Quinn's eyes glances back to Santana, wholooks away unimpressed as she brings her glass up to her lips and takes a long sip. "Anyway, I'm Lacy," the girl says extending her hand with a smile.

Quinn smiles and takes the offered hand in her own to squeeze it politely. "Well it's nice to officially meet you, Lacy. I've heard many good things."

"Can I buy you a drink?" Lacy offers settling down on the other side of Quinn at the bar.

Quinn glances again at Santana who couldn't resist looking back at Quinn from the corner of her eyes. "I already have one, thank you. But please, let me get you one," she turns fully towards Santana with a charming smile. "Would you like to take a guess at what she drinks?"

Santana's gaze lingers on Quinn's eyes for a moment before slowly tearing them away and examining the redhead. "Carlo Rossi," she says casually.

Lacy's face lights up. "I love Carlo Rossi," she says excitedly. "Do they have that?"

Quinn bows her head to look at her lap, concealing her amused smile.

Santana grins, lifting her glass as if to toast them. "Well, Quinn, I'll leave you lovely ladies to your date," she says with a slight nod of her head. Her eyes remain on Quinn before pushing off of the bar and leaving the two alone.

Lacy watches her leave perplexed. "Who was that?"

Quinn stares at Santana's retreating form in a daze, not entirely sure what just happened. "I have no idea."

* * *

"Struck out, huh?" Puck teases with a smirk as Santana slides back into her seat.

She places her Old Fashioned on the table and raises her eyebrows. Tracing the rim of the glass with her finger, she glances over at the bar to catch Quinn's eyes over her date's shoulder. Santana smiles, Quinn returning the gesture quickly before turning back to Lacy. "We'll see," Santana smirks. "The night is young."

Puck leans back in his chair and laces his fingers behind his head, looking over at Quinn. "Home wrecker," he laughs.

Santana rolls her eyes. "You're one to talk," she says pointedly. "Anyway, it's their first date, not their honeymoon."

"Right," Puck says with a chuckle. He surveys the bar from his vantage point in the corner. "Well then I suppose I have free reign over all the rest of the hot and available women in this bar."

"With my blessing," Santana says encouragingly.

Puck's eyes land on a group of girls laughing near the door. "A bunch of _single_ ladies. At least one of us has integrity," he teases.

Santana shoots him an amused look. "Oh yes, you set the moral standard for picking up girls in bars."

Puck stands and grabs his beer from the table, puffing out his chest.

Santana sighs and looks over at Quinn again. Her body language gives away her disinterest in whatever Lacy had just said. Quinn's eyes meet Santana's again briefly, both of them smiling.

* * *

Quinn leans casually against the bar, her body turned slightly toward Lacy and her head propped up on her hand. She tries, desperately, to pay attention to the story her date is telling her, but continuingly finds herself incapable of focusing on anything but the big, brown eyes that catch hers every time she looks over Lacy's shoulder. Really, they're making it nearly impossible not to keep looking.

After a moment, Quinn realizes quite embarrassingly that Lacy has stopped talking and is looking at her expectantly. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" Quinn asks with a blush.

"I was just asking what kind of photography you do," Lacy repeats.

"Oh...," Quinn stammers, hoping it wasn't _that_ obvious she hadn't been listening. "I'll photograph anything really. I freelance around. But right now I've been working with ."

Lacy looks at her blankly. "I'm sorry, I just don't know what that is exactly."

"Um...," Quinn starts. Her eyes seem to wander back over to the dark corner of the bar, where Santana sits with her friend and two giggling girls. Quinn frowns as she tries to think of a way to explain. "Basically, the site consists of documentary photography from around the world, exploring the human condition."

"Oh," Lacy says but it's apparent she still doesn't quite understand. Quinn's short answers and distracted demeanor were not lost on her date, however. She turns her attention to her wine glass, spinning the stem between her thumb and forefinger while waiting for Quinn to look back in her direction.

After a moment, the lull pulls Quinn back to her date. "I'm sorry," she says finally. She looks at the redhead apologetically, realizing she hasn't been very good company. Inwardly, she chastises herself for not making more of an effort, even if only to be polite. "What do you like to do for fun?" she asks quickly, trying to get the conversation back on track.

Lacy looks at Quinn hesitantly. "Well, I recently got my scuba certification," she offers.

"Really?!" Quinn's eyes light up. "I love diving! There's just something so peaceful and calming about it. You are truly one with yourself, you know? You're down there alone with your inner thoughts and all you really hear is the sound of your own breathing. It's quite calming."

Lacy shrugs. "Yeah, but does anyone really look good in those smelly rubber suits?" she says lightly before downing the rest of her wine.

Quinn laughs. "True." Maybe this date could turn around after all.

Lacy looks at her excitedly as another subject pops into her head. "Do you like NASCAR?"

Quinn sighs, her smile fading. It was going to be a long evening.

* * *

Quinn watches with a sigh as Lacy exits out of the bar. One more unsuccessful date under her belt. She turns towards the bartender and points to her empty wine glass. "One more please, and can I get my tab?"

"Actually, you can put that last drink on my tab," Santana says casually as she steps up to the bar.

Quinn smiles at the sight of her. "Two drinks in one night? That's mighty generous of you."

"I couldn't resist," Santana answers with a smile.

"I see your friend found a friend," Quinn nods towards Puck in the corner with one of the girls from earlier on his lap.

"Yeeeeah. Something about the Mohawk. I just don't get it," she sighs and turns back towards Quinn. "So how did the date go?"

Quinn reaches for her drink placed on the counter by the bartender. She smiles at him as he then places a pen on the counter along with her tab. "Not the best date I've ever been on," she admits. "She's not quite over her ex and we have nothing in common," Quinn explains off Santana's curious look. "And I was a little… distracted."

"Well," Santana says with a sigh as she slides onto the barstool beside her. "It wouldn't have worked out between you two anyway."

"No?" Quinn sips from her wine and crosses one leg over the other as she turns towards the other girl.

"No. A cabernet and a Carlo Rossi?" Santana shakes her head. "They just don't mix well."

Quinn chuckles. "Well then what does mix well with a cabernet?" Santana shrugs and casually glances down at her glass. She lifts her eyes back up towards Quinn with a smirk and arches a brow. "What is that? An Old Fashioned?" Quinn asks, amused.

"Yeah, why not?" Santana challenges. "I think they go together perfectly."

Quinn leans forward on her arms resting them flat on the bar. "And what does an Old Fashioned tell about a person?"

"You'll just have to have dinner with me and find out," Santana drawls flirtatiously.

Quinn lowers her gaze. "You're asking me out to dinner and I don't even know your name."

"Santana Lopez," she says, extending her hand. Quinn reaches out with her own. Their eyes remain on one another as they shake hands. Quinn goes to pull her hand away but instead of letting go, Santana holds on, her eyes gleaming. "Now will you have dinner with me?" Quinn's eyes fall to Santana's thumb lightly stroking her knuckles.

Quinn ducks her head, her eyes remaining on their joined hands. She chews on her bottom lip as she thinks about it. Her eyes flick up to meet Santana's and she smiled. "Okay," she agrees softly.

Santana smiles. "Let me see your phone." Amused, Quinn reaches for her phone inside of her purse and hands it to Santana. She watches curiously as the other girl punches in what she assumes is her phone number. When she's finished, she hands the phone back to Quinn. "Call me when you're free."

Quinn takes her phone and looks down at Santana's name now programmed into her contacts. "That's it? 'Call me when you're free'?" She asks looking up at Santana.

"Yeah," Santana shrugs.

Quinn looks at her curiously. "Well, what if you're busy?"

Santana's smile grows and her eyes lock intimately with Quinn's. "I won't be," she assures her.

"You sure are confident, aren't you?" Quinn chuckles. "I mean, don't you work?" she teases.

Santana laughs. "Oh no, I work. Trust me," she says rubbing the bruise still forming on her temple.

"Perhaps you can tell me all about it on our date," Quinn suggests seductively. "How about Saturday night? Is that too soon?"

Santana's smile falls into a lazy smirk and she shakes her head. "No, that doesn't work for me." Quinn's face falls. "It's not soon enough."

Quinn blushes. "Friday?" she offers instead. Santana winces and shakes her head. Quinn throws back her head and laughs. "Then why did you have me pick the day if you keep shooting me down?"

"How about right now," Santana suggests.

Quinn looks taken back. "Right now?"

"Yeah," Santana grins. "We're both here, we both have drinks, we're already conversing and you look absolutely stunning." Santana makes it a point to slowly drag her eyes down Quinn's body. "Why not?"

Quinn can't help but laugh. "You really _are_ smooth."

Santana lifts her glass, peering over the top of it. "Only when I'm interested." Santana smirks and brings her drink up to her lips. It really was good to be home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Day 2. Comfort/Fluff**

**The One Where They Fall In Love**

She knew it was dangerous to agree to that first date with Santana. And she definitely knew she was in trouble after Santana kissed her on date number two. After their first intimate night together, on date number four, she knew there was little hope left for her. But it wasn't until date number seven when Quinn knew she was helpless to fight against it.

She was rapidly falling in love with Santana Lopez.

Quinn watches as her finger traces over the scar that stretches two inches long underneath Santana's ribcage. She is fascinated with it, speculating if it was childhood accident or if she had some sort of surgery. As her finger drags across the slightly raised skin, she wonders if today will be the day Santana discloses its origin.

"These are really good, Q," Santana says as she looks from one 8x10 to the next.

Quinn sighs, placing her hand over top of the scar. Today would not be the day. "I don't know. A few of them I think are pretty decent," she shrugs. "I'm just not sure I captured their emotion."

"Oh you totally did." Santana quietly examines the next photo. "I mean I'm not even sure I agree with this protest and even _I'm_ getting pissed off on their behalf," she says turning around the photo so Quinn could see which one she was referring to. "These are incredible."

"I think you're biased," Quinn says with a smile.

"Why would I be biased?" Santana mumbles as she takes in the last of the photographs.

"I don't know, maybe because you're sleeping with the photographer?" Quinn teases as she drops a kiss on Santana's breast.

Santana peers around the photos. "I'm never biased."

"Never?" Quinn challenges.

"Okay, maybe a little, but never about your work. You are extremely talented." She carefully places the stack of photos on the nightstand. "Truly, you are."

"Thank you," Quinn says resting her head back down on Santana's chest. She lets out a sigh of contentment and closes her eyes, the sun peeking in from the window warming her skin. "I love Sundays."

Santana rakes her fingers through Quinn's hair. "It's because we have Thai for dinner, isn't it?"

Despite being able to hear the teasing smile in Santana's voice, Quinn chooses to correct her. "Because we're alone together and all day we lounge around like a couple of lazy cats."

"True," Santana agrees. "And lucky for me, you're usually naked."

Quinn lets out another noise of agreement. As Santana's hands continue to run through her hair, Quinn thinks back to the night they met, how confused she was when the stunning woman handed her a drink. Butterflies had filled her entire body as she hoped the woman was her date and how her stomach dropped when she told learned she wasn't.

Of course Santana hadn't been there to meet her. None of her dates lived up to her expectations. None of them excited her or aroused her like Santana was able to do with a simple smile.

She thought about throwing her hands up and yelling, "Why not?!"

But Santana had waited. She had watched her the entire night, stirring the butterflies within her with each glance in her direction. And that night ended up being one of the best night's of her life.

She thinks about it often and wonders if Santana knew they could've had something special. She wonders if that's why Santana stuck around. Because she just _knew._

"Did you think that when you saw me at the bar the night we met that we'd end up like this?" She asks.

"Naked? Of course I did," Santana says confidently.

Quinn lifts her eyes and pins Santana with a look. "You know what I mean."

"Oh, _that_," Santana says, her hands still tangled in Quinn's hair. "Well you know, I didn't want you for just one night. I wanted you for as long as I could have you. And I wasn't about to lose you to Carlo Rossi."

Quinn laughs. As if Lacy stood any kind of chance against Santana. "I was just wondering since you didn't even kiss me after our first date," Quinn says as she pulls herself up Santana's body. "I'm curious as to why that is."

"Hey, I had to make you work for these lips," Santana says pointing to her mouth seriously.

"I see." Quinn leans down with a smile. "It was worth the wait," she says as she drags her lips across Santana's.

"Damn right it was," Santana smirks before pulling Quinn down for a kiss.

Quinn pulls away and settles back down on top of Santana having no intention of moving. She closes her eyes with a sigh as Santana presses her lips against the top of her head. "What time's your flight tomorrow?"

"Eight," she mumbles against Quinn's head.

Quinn lets out a frustrated groan. "That's so early."

Santana pushes the hair away from Quinn's face and runs her hands down Quinn's shoulders and along her back, gently massaging her skin. "I know. But it's ten hours to Moscow."

"I just don't understand why it's going to take you _two weeks_ to sell this guy high risk life insurance," Quinn whines. "I mean, what does he do for a living to make this trip last two weeks?"

"You'd be surprised," Santana responds evasively. She drops a kiss on Quinn's forehead and shifts underneath her. "I'll be back before you know it."

"Not likely," Quinn pouts. "I just hate it when you're gone that long."

"Me too," Santana says softly. She pulls Quinn tightly against her. "How about I make you lunch? Would that help?"

Quinn grins. "You mean peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?"

Santana lifts her head to look down at her. "I'll have you know, I make the best PB and J on the entire East Coast."

"Yes you do," Quinn agrees even though she's pretty sure there's no wrong way to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

"What about a dog?" Santana says suddenly.

Quinn's brows furrow. "A dog sandwich?" She asks disgustedly. "Like a hot dog?"

Santana laughs and props herself up on her elbows, making Quinn shift above her. "No I mean, what about getting a dog so you're not alone when I have to go away on long trips."

Quinn lifts herself up to look down at the girl below her. "Seriously?"

Santana shrugs. "Yeah why not?" She reaches out and pushes the hair from Quinn's face. "I worry about you when I'm not here."

"I wouldn't mind a puppy," Quinn admits as her smile grows.

"Then it's settled. When I get back from Russia, we'll get a puppy." It hits Santana then how big of a step that might be. Three months in and getting a dog together? Is that too fast?

Quinn reaches for her shirt left carelessly on the floor, Santana's eyes never leaving her. She takes her in: Quinn's messy hair, slightly smudged eye makeup from the night before, and her perfectly flawless skin and it hits her hard.

She sits up, reaching out to stop Quinn from slipping her shirt over her head. "Hey," she says gently. Licking her lips nervously she knows now is the time to tell her. That waiting any longer would be stupid and realizing that she doesn't _want_ to wait any longer. "You know how much I like you, right?"

Quinn's smile is lopsided and playful as she turns towards her. "No, I don't know."

"I like you a lot," Santana elaborates. "You asked me about the night in the bar? Well, halfway through drinks with that blind date of yours, I knew you were different. I knew I didn't want anyone else buying you drinks."

Quinn's brows lift. "Halfway huh? It took you that long?"

Santana shrugs. "Well, you know, I had to do a background check on you just to be sure."

"Find anything interesting?" Quinn asks curiously.

"Maybe," Santana smirks.

Quinn smiles and links her fingers with Santana's. "Do I get to run a background check on you?"

"You can try. But you won't find anything," Santana says seriously. "But for real, I more than just like you." She looks down at their joined hands and takes a deep breath. "I love you." Her eyes lift to Quinn's slowly.

As the words spill from her lips, Quinn swears she stops breathing. She doesn't know whether she's going to laugh or cry. "I love you, too," she says breathlessly.

Santana regards her carefully. "You're not just saying that because I said it first, right?"

Shaking her head Quinn leans forward. "No," she says against Santana's mouth before kissing her.

Santana sighs. "Good, because I was really nervous."

"You? Nervous?" Quinn teases gently.

"I know. It's a new thing for me. Not sure how I feel about it," Santana says thoughtfully. She looks at Quinn and smiles. "I'm not very good with the whole verbally expressing how I feel," she admits with a timid smile.

Quinn's own smile grows as she shifts closer to Santana and pushes her backwards the on the bed. "Well you know, you can always _show_ me," she suggests straddling Santana's waste.

Santana wastes no time flipping Quinn onto her back and hovering over her with a devilish grin. "Now _that _I can do."


	3. Chapter 3

**Day 3. Meet the Family**

**The One Where Santana Meets Quinn's Mom**

Santana runs her fingers through her hair for probably the hundredth time while looking in the hallway mirror.

With a sigh, Quinn steps up behind her and encircles Santana's waist with her arms and rests her chin on the girl's shoulder. She catches Santana's eye in the mirror and squeezes her tightly. "You look amazing."

"I think I need a new curling iron. This one piece just isn't staying like it should," Santana grumbles as she fiddles with the strand of hair.

"Honey, don't be so nervous. It's just my mom. It's not a huge deal," Quinn says trying to calm her girlfriend's nerves.

"I don't have a mom. So your mom is like _the_ mom. It _is _a big deal." Santana's eyes glance up to meet Quinn's momentarily through the reflection of the mirror. "The closest thing I have to a family is a man-child with a Mohawk who likes to go around punching people."

"You have me," she says kissing Santana's shoulder. She turns her head to the side and smiles down at the scruffy brown puppy peering up at them curiously. "And Rufus." His ears perk when he hears his name and he cocks his head to the side.

Santana glances down at the new puppy she helped Quinn pick out from the shelter and steps out of her girlfriend's embrace to go check the bottle of wine, again, for the hundredth time. "Yeah well, in this instance you two don't count."

"I know you are nervous, so I will not take that personally," Quinn says watching Santana walk into the kitchen.

Satisfied with her choice of wine, she sighs and places it to the side. "I just don't want her to think I'm not good enough for you," she admits.

"Why would she think that?" Quinn's expression softens and she leans against the counter, giving Santana some space. "Are you okay?" She asks off of Santana's look. But before she can answer, there's a loud buzz from the intercom. Santana's head whips around to the clock on the microwave and Quinn grimaces. "She's early," she announces apologetically. Their eyes meet. "Ready?"

Santana nods and Quinn offers her a quick smile before buzzing her in the building.

Rufus trots over to Santana and looks up at her expectantly. She looks down at the dog and scratches him behind his floppy ears. "Here we go," she mumbles.

She runs her hands along her dress, smoothing it out wondering if she should've opted to wear her red dress instead of the navy blue and glances down hoping this dress isn't too revealing. She frowns when she realizes all of her dresses are revealing.

Santana curses herself. She's bungeed off the tallest buildings in Dubai, infiltrated high security KGB offices, taken out drug lords in the most dangerous areas in Venezuela, and battled the Yakuza in darkened alley's… and none of those things came close to the amount anxiety she was feeling just meeting Quinn's mother.

"You look amazing," Quinn says watching her from the door to her apartment, still sensing her anxiety.

Santana's eyes meet Quinn's and for a brief moment, she relaxes. Her eyes trail down Quinn's simple white cotton dress and navy sweater with a matching navy flats. Her hair is pushed back with a navy headband and curled only slightly. When Santana's eyes meet Quinn's again she wonders briefly if the reason Quinn wanted to dress after Santana was so that she could match her girlfriend.

Quinn offers her a charming smile before the moment is interrupted by a loud knocking on the apartment door, causing Quinn to jump.

And just like that Santana's anxiety is back.

"Mom!" Quinn chirps happily. "…And Dan." It's clear from Quinn's shift in tone that she's not happy to see her mother's boyfriend. Santana grimaces at the mention of his name. For the past three months she's heard nothing but Quinn bitch about how he's not at all right for her mother.

"I hope you don't mind," her mother says hopefully from the hallway.

Quinn clenches her teeth and forces a smile. "Not at all." She takes a step to the side and pushes the door open to allow them to enter the apartment.

The couple step into the room and Santana walks out of the kitchen towards them, trying her best to swallow down her nerves as she flashes them a smile. "Mom, this is Santana. Santana this is my mom and her boyfriend Dan," Quinn says closing the door behind them.

Santana extends her hand to the woman whom Quinn very much resembles. "Hello Mrs. Fabray, it's nice to finally meet you."

Adjusting the item in her arm, the woman beams at Santana as she reaches out with her free hand to shake Santana's. "It's so nice to finally meet you, too! Quinn has told us so many lovely things. And please, call me Judy."

Santana fights the urge to lift her brow as her eyes fall to the large plant tucked rather awkwardly under Judy's arm. "You brought a cactus."

As if forgetting, Judy looks down the plant somewhat startled before realizing she was still holding it. "Oh! Yes. Well, I wanted to bring you something but I don't know much about you. Quinn said you're always traveling so I thought this would be easy for you to take care of."

Santana takes the offered cactus and looks down at it, wondering if she should've gotten Judy something in return. "That's… incredibly nice. Thank you."

"I'm Dan," the man says offering an awkward wave.

Santana smiles at his khakis, loafers, button up purple dress shirt and tan jacket. His hair is neatly combed and swept to the side and his cologne is pungent. But Santana knows instantly that he tried to look nice for this evening, and she can't help but feel somewhat relieved that he's probably just as nervous as she is.

Judy looks around the main room in the apartment and frowns. "So are you planning on moving in here? It's rather small. Is yours bigger?"

"Two bedroom," Santana answers avoiding the direct question.

"Oh well, Quinn, you should move in with Santana!"

"Mom," Quinn snaps, her cheeks turning red. Even though the two rarely sleep apart, they haven't discussed future living arrangements. Moving in together had started to play through Quinn's mind quite recently, but she's never voiced her thoughts on the issue, instead waiting for Santana to bring it up. And despite being embarrassed by her mother's prodding, her eyes shift to Santana to gauge her reaction.

But her girlfriend merely smiles. "Would you like something to drink?" She asks, changing the subject.

Judy's eyes light up. "Wine."

"Beer," Dan says simultaneously.

"Coming right up," Santana says as she hurries to the kitchen, giving Quinn a quick wink as she does, her nerves seeming to fall away.

* * *

"So those are the highlights," Judy says placing her empty wine glass on the coffee table.

"It sounds like you had a great time," Quinn says sincerely.

"We really did," Dan agrees.

It's been two hours and Santana has been nothing but polite to her mother and Dan. She's listened intently, asked questions, and seemed genuinely interested in everything they said. Quinn glances at her girlfriend from the corner of her eye and shifts closer on the loveseat. Causally, Quinn slips her arm behind her, resting her hand on the small of Santana's back. Santana seems to lean into the touch.

Judy's eyes fall to Quinn's arm wrapped securely around the other girl. She leans back comfortably into the couch cushions and smiles at Santana. "So tell me more about all this traveling you do."

"It's just business related. Not a lot of pleasure involved unfortunately," Santana chuckles.

"Even so you've had to see some amazing places. Where's your favorite place that you've been?" Judy asks curiously.

Santana releases a long breath. "That's rough," she says thinking back. After pushing aside the near death experiences and high pressure situations, she thinks back to the good experiences she's had. To the places that made her take pause and notice their beauty and charm. "I loved Belize. And I really loved Kyoto," she says thoughtfully.

"That's Japan, right?" Dan asks.

"It is. And the Sea of Stars in the Maldives was just, amazing." She turns towards Quinn with a smile. "I'd love to take Quinn there one day," she says reaching out and placing her hand on the other girl's knee.

Quinn returns the smile and slips her arm back from around Santana and takes her hand in her own instead.

Judy's eyes flick back and forth from between the two girls. "So why is it that you've been dating my daughter for almost six months and this is the first time we've met? Not to mention not coming for Thanksgiving."

"Uh," Santana tenses immediately at the question.

Quinn sighs and answers instead. "Mom I've told you. We've both been really busy. Flying back to Ohio just wasn't an option. And I told you we wanted to be alone for our first Thanksgiving," she reminds her.

Judy shakes her head and reaches for the wine bottle, pouring the last of the liquid into her glass. "Well at least we're together for Christmas. Even if we did have to come to you."

"How terrible for you to miss Christmas in Ohio," Quinn mutters annoyed. "Anyway, you've been on your cruise and doing fundraisers. You've been busy, too."

"We still found the time for holidays though, didn't we?" Judy says matter of factly. "I mean I just knew it was serious when I heard about you two getting a puppy together," she says glancing at Rufus sleeping on the floor by Santana's feet. "I was just surprised we didn't meet sooner, that's all."

"Judy," Dan says gently.

But she shakes her head and smiles, bringing the glass to her lips. "But what I really want to know is, will I be having any grandchildren in the future?"

Quinn pulls her hand away from Santana and sits straight up. "Mom!" She shrieks, positively mortified.

Judy nods and holds up her hands defensively. "I mean, I know you kinds of people can't have children the traditional way,"

Quinn slouches back on the couch, hoping the cushions will swallow her whole as she covers her face with her hands. "Oh my God," she groans.

"But there's always adoption or one of you can get inseminated," she says knowingly reaching for her glass.

Quinn quickly leans forward, beating her mother to the wine glass. "No more wine for you," she says seriously.

Judy glances from her daughter to Santana and then at Dan, not understanding. "What?"

Santana shrugs; a smirk on her lips at as she takes in Quinn's reddened cheeks.

"We don't even live together, Mom," Quinn hisses.

"I'm just saying - "

"Judy, leave the poor kids alone," Dan says with a heavy sigh.

Judy shakes her head. "I just think - "

"How about we see some of your latest photography," Dan says interrupting Judy once more.

Quinn gives him a grateful look.

* * *

"I can't believe my mom," Quinn says shaking her head as she slips out of her dress.

Santana smiles and watches her from the edge of the bed, pulling her hair back and out of her face. "She's just being a mom."

"She's _embarrassing_," Quinn whines.

"She loves you and wants what's best for you," Santana says laughing lightheartedly.

"I guess," Quinn mumbles. She drapes her dress over her clothes hamper and rummages in her dresser for a clean t-shirt. "She told me several times how much she liked you," she says pulling the shirt over her head.

Santana smiles almost proudly. "Really?"

"Yes. Dan too."

The weight of the evening _finally_ leaves her body at Quinn's mother's approval of her and their relationship. She reaches out and guides Quinn towards her, pulling her down on her lap. "Well she _did_ push for us to start having kids…"

Quinn straddles her waist and slips her arms around her neck, ducking her head in embarrassment. "I am so sorry. I am so mortified about that."

Santana looks positively offended. "You're mortified about the idea of having kids with me?"

Quinn's eyes quickly meet Santana's, wide in embarrassment. "I didn't say that!" She quickly insists. Suddenly a thought hits her and the color drains from her face. "I just… what I meant was… do _you _want kids?"

Santana glances behind her at the scruffy dog sprawled out across the bed. "I think Rufus is enough for now," she chuckles. Quinn sighs in relief. "I had a good time tonight."

Quinn regards her carefully. "Really?"

Santana pulls Quinn closer and holds her tightly. "It was interesting. I've never really done that before. Met my girlfriend's mother," she admits.

"I find that hard to believe," Quinn laughs.

Santana grimaces. "I'm not exactly the type of girl who you bring home to mom," she explains awkwardly.

Quinn's laughter dies when she sees that Santana is serious. She cups her girlfriend's face in her hands gently. "You're sweet, thoughtful, polite… you're _exactly_ the type of girl _anyone_ would be proud to introduce to their parents."

Santana squirms, slightly uncomfortable as she sidesteps _why_ exactly she avoided long term relationships. "I guess I've never been in a relationship where I wanted to meet the family. I was never invested enough. My job always came first and I never really, I dunno, wanted to put the effort in to make it work."

"So you're saying you're invested enough in this relationship to put in extra work to be with me?" Quinn asks with a knowing smile.

Santana rolls her eyes. "Well, duh. We're having kids, remember?"

"Oh my God," Quinn groans knowing for a fact that Santana will never let her live that down.

Santana grins mischievously and leans in, pressing her lips to Quinn's as she falls back on to the bed, pulling the startled blonde with her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Day 4. Future Quinntana**

**The One Where They Live Together**

Santana leans against the wall in the hallway, staring at the key in her hand to her apartment. _Their_ apartment.

Before Quinn, when she came home she'd drop her bags, take a quick shower and have a drink with Puck. Sometimes Artie and Kitty would join them. Or, if she was really beaten up or exhausted, she'd come home, open a beer and then fall into bed.

Since Quinn, she's been in the routine of coming home, grabbing a quick shower and heading directly to Quinn's, anxious to see her. But she still had time to make herself presentable. She could cover her wounds, and bypass unpacking her work items in front of her girlfriend. She just had to show up with an overnight bag and that was that.

But this time she was coming home directly to someone. Now it was, open the door and there she is, "my trip was fine" while trying to cover the bruises long enough to get to the bathroom and clean up. It was her first time coming home directly to Quinn since she moved in a little under a month ago and she wasn't exactly sure how it was going to go.

"I should just tell her," Santana mumbles to herself. Nine months in, a dog, and living together was as pretty standard as it went as far as serious relationships went. And the longer she waits the worse it's going to be. She knows this.

But as she slips her key into the deadbolt and turns and steps inside, she decides it can wait another day.

The apartment smells amazing. She drops her bags by the door and closes it behind her, turning the deadbolt firmly in place. Rufus lets out a loud bark and rushes towards the door, his expression changing when he realizes who it is.

"Hey boy!" Santana says patting her chest for the dog to jump. "Were you a good boy while I was gone? Did you protect the house?" She laughs when he licks her face.

"You're early!" Quinn says happily as she emerges from the kitchen, her hair pulled back and a spoon in her hand. "I was hoping dinner would be ready by the time you got here."

"Sorry, there wasn't much traffic. Guess everyone knows it's going to snow," she offers as a way of explanation.

Quinn leans in and kisses her, wrapping her free arm around Santana's neck. "How was your trip?"

"Long," Santana says with a heavy sigh. "And I need a shower." Even though she was only gone for a week, the mission had taken a lot out of her. She was exhausted and sore. At least the only bruises she came away with were on her ribs and not her face. "It smells fantastic in here. What are you making?"

"Chicken," Quinn says with a smile. Santana shakes her head and slips off her jacket and scarf as Quinn makes her way back to the kitchen. "I'll tell you what, why don't you shower while I finish up dinner?"

"Great idea," Santana agrees as she picks up her suitcase, wincing at the sudden movement. Her eyes flick up to see if Quinn noticed.

She didn't.

"Then you can tell me all about the Ukraine and I can show you how much I missed you," Quinn purrs from within the kitchen.

Normally Santana would forgo the shower and make Quinn prove it right then and there, dinner be damned. But the constant throbbing in her ribcage reminds her that it it's better to stay away from physical activities such as those for awhile. "Great," she says forcing a smile.

It wasn't the first time she had to cover up cuts and bruises from Quinn. But how the hell was she going to keep Quinn from seeing the bruising on her chest?

* * *

She turns on the water as hot as it can go and slowly begins to undress. First her shoes and socks, then her jeans, then her sweatshirt and finally her t-shirt, until she is left standing in the middle of the bathroom in nothing but her underwear.

Carefully, Santana picks up her dirty clothes and tosses them in the hamper, kicking her shoes out of the way. She takes a deep breath and winces, bringing her hand to her side, she presses her palm flat against her ribs.

After a moment of collecting herself, she gently unwinds the bandage wrapped all the way around her chest. Once she's free of the bandage she tosses it in the linen closet on top of her first aid kit and looks at herself in the mirror. Her chest and side look bad. The bruising is fresh and still a gross-looking yellow. She winces at the sight of it.

Steam starts to seep out from behind the shower curtain and with another sigh, she grabs a bottle of pain killers from the medicine cabinet and swallows them dry. After snatching a towel and tossing it over the shower rod, she steps into the tub, turning the knob to cool off the scorching water.

Santana leans forward pressing her forearms against the cool tile and bows her head, closing her eyes.

She's so incredibly stupid. Why hasn't she just told her?

Schuester's wife knows. Why can't Quinn?

Santana groans. She should've told her before they started living together. She should've told her months ago. And now she's stuck in a situation where lying and keeping things from Quinn have gone from necessary to downright impossible.

It used to be easy, brushing aside simple questions…

_"How did you get that black eye?"_

_"Breaking up a bar fight. It was stupid."_

She would listen to Quinn lecture her about how dangerous inserting herself in drunken brawls could be and Santana would shrug as if it was no big deal. It was easy to brush aside the truth.

Now, however, Quinn's worried gaze and gentle touch to her work related injuries has left Santana almost speechless.

_"How did dislocate your shoulder?"_

_"I fell," would spill from her lips._

But images of a North Korean militant flipping her to the ground awkwardly would flash behind her eyes.

And when Quinn sees her broken ribs…

"Shit," Santana whispers. She has to tell her. She has to tell her before it's too late. Even if she already knows deep down that it just might _be_ too late.

"Hey San, do you want wine with dinner or something else?"

Quinn's voice startles her and she stands straight up, grabbing the shower curtain and poking her head with a smile. "Wine is fine."

Quinn looks around the bathroom floor, her eyes falling to the hamper. "You picked up your clothes!" She says excitedly.

"Well you've been nagging me about how terrible I am about it so I thought I'd avoid a lecture," Santana smirks.

"See? You're learning," Quinn says closing the distance to the shower.

"Yes, dear," Santana teases.

Quinn reaches out to grab Santana's face. "You're such a smartass," she laughs as she leans in for another kiss.

Santana closes her eyes and sighs.

"Are you okay?" Quinn asks worriedly.

When Santana opens her eyes she's met with a concerned gaze. Doing her best to flash a smile, she nods. "Yeah, I'm just really tired."

Quinn's expression softens and she runs her hands down the sides of Santana's face. "How about after dinner we curl up on the couch and watch a movie," she suggests.

"Sounds perfect." Quinn smiles and turns to leave Santana to shower. As she does, a rush of urgency courses through Santana at her retreating form and she calls out to stop her before she loses her nerve. "Hey, Quinn?" The girl stops and turns around. Santana looks her in the eyes, gathering the courage to tell her everything. She grips the shower curtain tightly, ready to push it back and show Quinn her bruised ribs, the truth about who she is heavy within her throat. Now is the time. She needs to tell her now.

But, "I'm glad you're here," is all that she can manage to say.

Quinn smiles softly. "Me too."

* * *

Santana gently settles down on the couch, her stomach full and her eyes heavy. Her chest hurts, but she's wrapped it tight and popped more pain killers than she probably should have. Her body feels heavy as she carefully lies down, stretching her legs out across the upholstery.

Quinn pulls the blanket over her as Santana rests her head in Quinn's lap. She winces as she settles deeper into the couch cushions but sighs as her entire body relaxes when Quinn's fingers drag through her still damp hair. "I'm going to get your pants wet," she murmurs as she runs her hand along Quinn's leg.

"I will just let that one go," Quinn says with a trace of a smile on her lips. Santana groans, knowing how her comment could've been taken and nuzzles her face against her girlfriend's thigh. "Just relax," Quinn says as she reaches over to turn off the table lamp. "I can tell you're exhausted."

"Mmm," Santana hums in agreement.

The volume of the TV is low and the room now dark except for the flickering of the old black and white movie flashing on the screen. Santana's eyes start to slip closed as Quinn gently massages her head.

Somewhere in the back of her mind Santana feels a tug, a constant nagging that she should be doing something, saying something important. But whatever it was becomes lost as she falls asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Day 5. AU**

**The One Where Quinn Finds Out**

_"I say don't worry about it." Puck knocks back the last of his drink and motions the waitress over for another. "You waited a year. Why not wait another?"_

_"If you're serious about this girl then you need to tell her," Artie disagrees. "The fact that you've kept it from her for this long is pretty bad."_

_"I just don't know how to tell her. It never seems like a good time," Santana says with a frown._

_Puck shakes his head. "No way. Girls tend to freak."_

_Kitty snaps her head in his direction, her nose wrinkled in disgust at his assessment. "What? No they don't. What's wrong with you?" _

_"Are you serious about her?" Artie asks focusing Santana's attention back on him from across the table. _

_"Yes, I love her. I'm _in_ love with her," Santana confirms as she cradles her still full beer glass in her hands. _

_"Then you need to tell her before it's too late," Artie says pointedly. _

_Puck snorts and reaches out to grab Santana's beer while he waits for his own. "It's already too late. You missed your window," he says before chugging Santana's beer. "It's warm!" he chokes. _

_Santana sighs._

_Kitty looks at her sympathetically. "I think if you're honest with her now then it will turn out okay."_

_Puck takes another large gulp of Santana's lukewarm beer. "She's gonna freak," he insists. _

_Artie rolls his eyes but ignores Puck. "You should tell her, Santana. Soon."_

_"I agree. You need to tell her," Kitty nods. _

_Santana looks between her friends knowing they're right. The waitress places another beer in front of her. With another heavy sigh, Santana reaches out and takes a long sip. _

_After the mission. As soon as this mission is over she'll tell her. For real this time._

"Come on, Quinn. Open the door." Santana presses her forehead to the doorframe and closes her eyes. "Please? I really think we should talk about this." When there's no response from the other side of their bedroom door Santana tries the knob again. Still locked. Puck was right. She's definitely freaking. "Quinn, can we please just talk?"

Santana's eyes open at _finally_ hearing the sound of movement from inside the room. Despite hearing heavy stomping towards the door, Santana is still startled with the door suddenly flies open. Taking a step back, she winces as Quinn shoots her a scathing look.

"What's there to talk about? You _lied_ to me, Santana!"

"I _had_ to," Santana says calmly.

Quinn shakes her head. "I get it, okay? I'm not _that_ unreasonable. I know you couldn't have just walked up to me the night we met and said, 'Hi, I'm Santana Lopez, I'm a super sexy spy for the United States Government.' I get it. I even understand you not telling me after two months, three months. Hell, even after six months. But a year? A _year_?!"

Quinn stares at her for a moment before turning away and walking further into their bedroom, disgusted.

"Quinn," Santana sighed but remains standing in the doorway.

Quinn spins around angrily. "We've been together for a year! Fourteen months actually! I moved out of my apartment and turned down a job in Boston to be with you!"

Santana winces. "Low blow, Quinn," she says as though she'd been visibly struck.

The soft spoken comment gives Quinn pause, her expression softening. But only briefly. Her eyes harden and she continues her tirade. "You didn't even have the decency to tell me the truth!"

"Well I'm telling you now!" Santana snaps.

"Because you had to! You come home with a broken arm and looking like you've been hit by a truck," Quinn's argument falls short when Santana breaks eye contact with her. This isn't the first time Santana has come home injured. But it's by far the worse she's ever looked. Quinn's stomach tightens and her eyes widen. "Oh my God, _were_ you hit by a truck?"

Santana runs her hand through her hair and adjusts her broken arm within its sling. "Not exactly," she says uncomfortably. She chooses not to point out that it was a car that struck her, not a truck.

Quinn feels as though she's going to be sick. She turns away from Santana and crosses her arms over her chest. "I don't even know what to think," she says softly. "The fact that you don't trust me, even after a year -"

"It's not that I don't trust you," Santana sighs.

Quinn's eyes meet hers. "Everything, this whole… relationship… has it been a lie?"

"No! Quinn that is _not_ true!" Santana protests as she finally steps into their bedroom.

"Every time you came home with a bruise or a cut or stitches and you told me it was a hazard from work," Quinn muses. "The refreshment cart on the airplane bumping into you, falling off a motorcycle while riding with a client…"

"Technically that one was true," Santana points out.

"I believed you! I honestly believed you sold life insurance!" Quinn shouts. "But a Special Task Force for the C.I.A.? How stupid am I?"

"Quinn, would you just let me explain?" Santana pleads. Quinn opens her mouth to protest but Santana takes another step closer and continues before Quinn can tell her no. "This is the longest relationship I've ever been in. Ever. I've never done this before. I've never been in the situation of having to tell someone I love what I do because I've never stuck around long enough to _have_ to tell them. Everyone I care about is gone or…." She sighs. "I have no family Quinn. _You_ are my family." Quinn looks away. "And it's not like I can just walk around shouting what I do to people I just met."

"You've kept this for over a year, Santana," Quinn interrupts exasperated. "It really hurts that you would do that."

"I know," Santana continues patiently. "And that's why I'm being honest with you now. Ask me anything."

Quinn stares at her warily not quite convinced that Santana will be as open as she is insisting. But Santana waits. Her eyes shining and her walls down. She doesn't push and she doesn't force. She just… waits.

Quinn feels her throat tighten as her head swirls with questions she's not entirely sure she wants to hear the answers to. Suddenly, she goes from confident and angry to insecure and worried. "Were you ever planning on telling me?"

"I've been trying to figure out a way to tell you for months. At dinner, in bed, in the car, on vacation last month," she admits. "I just could never find the right words to say. They just seemed like poison and if I brought them up then the moment would be ruined. And I'd see the hurt look on your face, not unlike the one you have now, and I just… couldn't do it."

The tears in Quinn's eyes are back and she wipes at them before they can fall. She's hurt and angry. And she refuses to give into Santana despite her honest expression and puppy eyes. "When you leave and go on these missions, are they always dangerous?"

Santana suppresses the urge to smile at Quinn's use of the word 'mission'. "Sometimes," she admits. She starts to take a step forward, her hand lifting from her side to reach out to Quinn. It breaks her heart to see how upset she is. And it downright shatters it to know she's the reason behind it.

But Quinn flinches at the movement so Santana stops, continuing to give the girl space.

Quinn wraps her arms around herself, her eyes flicking up hesitantly to Santana. "Are there… people after you? Like right now?"

Santana shakes her head. "No."

"Were you even _in_ Mexico?"

"Yes."

"Did you have anything to do what's happening in Mexico City?"

"Yes."

"Does anyone outside of the C.I.A. know who you work for?"

"Just you."

"Are Puck, Artie and Kitty apart of your team?"

"Yes."

"Am I in danger now that I know you work for the C.I.A.?"

"No."

"What exactly do you do?"

"I can't tell you that," Santana says regrettably. She knew that question was coming. And she dreaded it. Two steps forward. Three steps back. Quinn's face falls. "Quinn, you're not in danger _because_ you don't know. I promise I'll be as honest as I can, but there _are_ some things I can't tell you. And trust me, there are things you don't want to know."

Quinn stares at her for a moment, letting the words sink in. The rational part of her knows Santana is right. That she's lucky she's being as honest as she is. But the girlfriend part of her feels betrayed. Her eyes fall from Santana's black eye to her sling. "All those injuries," she says trailing off as she thinks back to the numerous times Santana came home banged up. Then it hits her. "Your scar…" Her eyes drift to Santana's ribcage.

Santana tenses, her lips pursing together as flashes of one of her first assignments comes rushing back. "A jagged piece of glass." Quinn meets her gaze. "It was my third assignment. I was arrogant, careless and reckless. I had taken off my vest to go drinking with Puck. We were wasted. Completely trashed. We were celebrating our victory. But there was someone in my hotel room, waiting." Santana looks at Quinn seriously. "I haven't been careless since."

_And that's why Puck and I don't drink to our victory until after we're home_, she thinks to herself.

Quinn feels as though she might be sick. For over a year she's wondered about that scar. And now that she knows… No wonder Santana never mentioned it.

"Hey," Santana says closing the remaining distance between them. "Look at me." She waits until Quinn's eyes meet hers once more. "I'm okay. And I'm so sorry you had to find out this way instead of us sitting down and talking about it. I should've done that a long time ago. And that's on me. But I never lied about where I was. And I never lied about my feelings for you. Ever."

"I just never thought that every time you left you were putting your life in danger," Quinn admits with a crack to her voice. "This changes… everything,"

"Nothing. It changes nothing," Santana says firmly. "Quinn, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I would do _anything_ for you."

"Would you stop putting your life in danger? Would you stop going on missions?" Quinn challenges.

Santana was taken back. "Quinn," she says unsure of how to respond. Quinn's walls immediately go back up. She purses her lips and nods. "Quinn please," Santana pleads. Leaving the C.I.A. just isn't an option. But neither is losing Quinn. "Just tell me we're going to be okay. That's all I want to know. Tell me what you want me to do."

Quinn turns away from Santana and reaches for a pillow. "I want you to sleep in the guest room for starters."

Santana can barely grab the pillow thrust into her chest with her good arm. "Are you serious?" Santana calls out to Quinn as she makes her way to the master bathroom.

She stops in the doorway and pins Santana with a serious look. "I need to think about this. And I'm angry and hurt. So yes, I'm serious."

"But my - " But Quinn slams the bathroom door. "Arm is broken." Santana looks down at the pillow with a frown before heading towards the door. She glances at Rufus on the way out. "You coming?" He doesn't even bother to lift his head. "Didn't think so."

* * *

The pain in Santana's arm wakes her. She shifts uncomfortably and reaches for her pain killers resting on the nightstand but as she stretches, her foot connects with a squishy lump at the end of the bed. She lifts her head and looks down at Rufus sprawled out near her feet.

A soft sigh distracts her from his sleeping form and she looks towards the sound. Her eyes land on Quinn sleeping peacefully beside her.

A small smile tugs at her lips.


	6. Chapter 6

**Day 6. Holiday Season**

**The One Where It's Christmas**

One of the conditions was to never miss a holiday. That was rule #4. It fell directly behind:

1. Never lie

2. Always disclose when your life is in danger

3. Never hide an injury

And right now, Santana was close to breaking all 4 rules. And the six others that followed.

"Shit, shit, shit!" She curses as they race through the airport. She checks her watch for the thousandth time and grips her bags tighter.

Puck runs behind her, amused as always. "I'm in D4," he calls out as Santana pauses to glance around the parking garage.

"Why the fuck did you park so far away?" Santana snaps.

"It was the closest spot when we got here!" Puck reminds her.

"Give me your keys," Santana orders as she races down D4, closing in on Puck's agency car.

"What? No way!" Puck holds the keys against himself, not wanting to give up his ride.

Santana stops in front of the black sedan on loan to them both, and holds out her hand. "Give me your keys Puckerman or I'll call your mother and tell her about the prostitute you picked up in Amsterdam."

Puck's eyes widen. "I didn't know she was a hooker!" Santana arches her brow. "I didn't!" But Santana doesn't back down. With a heavy sigh, he slams the keys in her hand. "How the hell am I supposed to get to my brother's?"

"Call a cab!" Santana suggests opening the backseat to toss her bags inside.

This was not part of the deal. Drive from Boston to Columbus for their flight to London and then Santana calls a cab to get to Quinn's moms. That's how it was supposed to go. _Not _ the other way around.

"Are you kidding me?" Puck yells. He shakes his head and tries to make a grab for the keys. "No way. I'll drop you off."

"It's not even close to your brother's," Santana says baffled. Jake lives right outside of Columbus. Why would he offer to take her over an hour away?

"So? You still have to change or whatever, right?" He makes his play for the keys and catches Santana off guard, snagging them from her hand. "Besides, I'm a better driver than you. Not to mention I'm not going to my brother's until tomorrow."

Santana watches as Puck throws his bags in the backseat and walks towards the driver's side door with a smirk. "Then where the hell are you going tonight?"

"Dayton," he says simply.

Santana shakes her head. It would make no sense for Puck to drop her off in Lima and then turn around and drive to Dayton. "That's like an extra hour out of your way," she points out.

"You know, 'tis the season or some shit." And with merely a shrug he slips into the car. "Hurry up. You're gonna be late!"

Santana lets out a snort and slips into the passenger's seat without another word of protest.

* * *

Santana runs her hands through her hair and touches up her make-up one last time just as Puck is pulling up to the house. The clock reads 8:02. "Fuck," she swears as she reaches for the bottle of Dom Pérignon from the backseat.

"Relax. It's gonna be fine," Puck casually says.

"You don't know Quinn's mom," Santana points out.

"But I know Quinn." He glances at Santana in her short black dress and knee high boots. Not exactly Christmas dinner apparel, but she looks sexy nonetheless. Besides, Santana picked out this dress for Quinn. That's all that mattered.

She slips on her jacket and fluffs her hair one more time. "How do I look?"

"Would you just get your stuff and get out?" Puck says in mock annoyance. "I have a very attractive, older woman expecting me."

Santana curls her lip in disgust. "Gross." She grabs her bags out of the backseat and leans down to look at her friend. "Merry Christmas, Puck," she says with a grateful smile.

"Merry Christmas, Santana," he smiles. "By the way, you look wicked hot."

Santana rolls her eyes and slams the door.

* * *

"Santana you're here!" Judy says as she flings the door open in a dramatic fashion. She pulls Santana in for a tight embrace before she can even step foot inside her house. "Dan, take her bags," she instructs over her shoulder.

"We're glad you made it," Dan says sincerely as he removes Santana's duffle from across her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry. My flight was late," Santana explains as Judy finally releases her. She looks past her for Quinn, but she's nowhere to be found. Santana's shoulders slump.

"Don't worry about it! Flights are always late on Christmas. We're just glad you're here." Judy pulls Santana into her home and gives Santana no time to ask about Quinn before shutting the door behind them and yanking on Santana's jacket like an impatient child. "Let me take your coat and then we can eat before it gets cold."

Santana helps remove her coat and takes a deep breath, the smell of turkey making her realize how hungry she is. Judy's eyes fall to the bottle in her hand. "This is for you," Santana says presenting the champagne.

"Dom Pérignon?" Judy gasps. "What's the occasion?"

Santana shifts uncomfortably under her scrutinizing gaze. "Uh…Christmas?"

Judy's disappointment isn't masked as her face visibly falls. "I was hoping maybe - "

"Mom!"

Santana sighs in relief as Quinn walks into the room, a glass of wine her in hand. Her hair is loosely pulled back and she's wearing a casual red dress and matching flats. Santana thinks she looks stunning.

With a dramatic sigh, Judy turns towards the kitchen. "I'll go open this."

Santana's eyes stay on Quinn. She hasn't seen her for almost two weeks, and it takes all her self-discipline not to pull her in for a heated kiss in the middle of the foyer. "Hey."

"Hey," Quinn says softly, a smile tugging at her lips.

"I'm so sorry I'm la -"

Quinn closes the distance between them and pulls Santana in for a kiss. It isn't heated and it isn't passionate, but it's full of relief and love. And Santana melts.

When they pull away, Quinn reaches out to run her hand down Santana's chest. "I hate it when I don't hear from you. I always think the worst."

Santana leans forward, pressing her forehead against Quinn's. "I'd told you I'd be here."

"I know." But Quinn is already inspecting her hands and arms for visible injuries.

"I'm fine," Santana says, smirking. She can't help but enjoy that Quinn still insists on checking her over each time she returns home. "Not even a papercut."

Quinn stops her inspection, her eyes lifting to Santana's. "Promise?"

Santana holds out her pinky finger seriously. There was no way she was going to break rule #1. Quinn smiles, satisfied for the time being, and grabs her hand, tugging her towards the dining room. She takes a sip of her wine and glances over her shoulder. "By the way, you look amazing."

* * *

"This was nice," Santana says as she nuzzles her face against Quinn's neck.

Quinn turns her head slightly to the side, looking over her shoulder at Santana nestled in behind her. "Even the carols by the piano?"

"Even the carols by the piano," Santana laughs. She squeezes her arms around Quinn's stomach, pulling her tighter against her. "Who knew you had such a seductive singing voice?"

"Yeah, yeah." With a sigh, Quinn looks past the Christmas tree and the fire roaring in the fireplace to the darkened window. "The only thing that would make this moment perfect would be if it was snowing."

"Snow, huh?" Santana pulls her arm away from Quinn and reaches in her front hoodie pocket. "I can't bring the snow, but maybe I can help make the moment even more special. I got you something," she says mischievously.

"It's not Christmas yet," Quinn chastises.

"I know. But I can't wait any longer." Santana pulls her hand out of her sweatshirt and brings her arm back around Quinn.

When she looks down to Santana's hand curiously, her hand instinctively goes to her mouth. Her heart hammers in her chest. "Oh my God," she says as the diamond catches the light from the Christmas tree.

Even in the darkened room Santana can see Quinn's eyes glisten. "I don't want to spend another Christmas without being able to call you my wife."

"Oh my God."

Santana twists herself so she can fully see Quinn's face, turning the girl to face her. But Quinn's eyes never leave the ring held tightly between her fingers. "Quinn, I have loved you since the moment I saw you. And looking back, I can't even imagine how I lived without you. And to be quite honest, I don't even want to try." She takes a deep, steadying breath. "Will you marry me?"

And finally Quinn's eyes lift to meet Santana's, if only for a beat, before dropping back to the sparkling diamond before her. "Yes!"

Santana releases a large breath, her heart swelling inside her chest. With a shaking hand, she slips the ring on Quinn's finger and smiles. "Too clichéd?"

"No," Quinn laughs. "It's perfect."

Santana's eyes glance briefly to the window as Quinn examines the princess cut diamond atop a thin, platinum band. "It's snowing," Santana mutters in awe.

But Quinn's mouth is already against hers and she's pushing her back on the couch, too distracted by her new fiancé to notice.

* * *

**Just needed a little fluff in my life! haha Thanks for the nice reviews and messages. They are appreciated and always make me smile. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Day 7. Free Day**

**The One Where They Live Happily Ever After**

Artie looks over his glass at Santana who's been unusually quiet. He glances at Puck who shrugs. "Are things better with you and Quinn?" He asks tentatively.

Santana lets out a heavy sigh and pinches the bridge of her nose. It's been a rough couple of weeks and she's exhausted. Just thinking about going home and fighting with Quinn, again, drains her of all of her energy. "We fought about the trash again last night," she admits warily.

Kitty looks at her confused. "The trash?"

Santana runs her hand through her hair and checks her cell phone for the thousandth time, wondering if she should call Quinn. "I keep forgetting to take the trash out," she explains.

"You're both just stressed," Artie assures her. "Your transition has been pretty exhausting."

"Yeah you've been a real gem at work, too," Puck snorts.

Santana doesn't even bother protesting. She knows her patience has been at an all-time low. She's been snapping at everyone, not just Quinn. Kitty reaches out and pats Santana's hand. "Marriage can be hard! You two spent a year planning the wedding and then you're constantly traveling. You spent like four months looking for a house, you're barely unpacked and now you have this thing with your job. Artie's right. That's _a lot_ of stress. I'm sure this vacation will help get things back on track."

"You're still having sex though. Right?" Puck asks seriously.

Santana rolls her eyes, ignoring the question. "I think she knows something else is going on."

"How? You're an amazing liar!" Artie says, his voice getting higher in disbelief.

Santana shoots him a look. "Gee, thanks."

Artie blushes and sinks further into his chair. "You know what I mean," he mumbles.

"Yeah, well, not when it comes to Quinn," Santana says reaching for her beer. "We've been planning this vacation for the past month."

"Do you think she's going to be mad?" Kitty asks.

Santana brings the mug to her lips. "I think she's going to be _pissed._"

* * *

Santana wipes her hands on the hand towel resting on the kitchen counter and pops her head around the corner towards the front door. "Hey," she says with a smile.

Quinn drops her bags by the front door and smiles as Rufus runs towards her, wagging his tail. She bends over to scratch behind his ears. She drops a kiss on his head and makes her way to the kitchen. "I figured you'd be out longer."

"I thought I'd surprise you with dinner," Santana says nodding towards the stove. She leans in and kisses Quinn on the cheek. "How was your day?"

"Long," Quinn says with a heavy sigh. She leans on the counter and peers into the frying pan. "I don't know how they'll manage without me for two weeks."

Santana turns her attention to the sauce on the back burner and smiles at her wife. "I don't blame them."

Something catches Quinn's eye and she turns towards the stapled pieces of paper resting on the edge of the counter. She picks up the flight confirmation and scans it quickly. Her eyes lift to Santana who holds perfectly still as Quinn glares at her. "Australia?" Quinn asks, her face reddening. "For ten days?"

Santana turns and motions towards the paper in her hands knowing this was going to happen. "Actually it's Australia for six and New Zealand for four."

Quinn glances down at the paper once more, her eyes landing on the departure date. "You leave tomorrow."

"Well actually - ,"

"When were you planning on telling me this?" Quinn asks, interrupting.

"I'm telling you now," Santana answers calmly.

"What about Myrtle Beach?" Quinn shouts, her voice growing louder with each word. "We had plans, Santana! This was our vacation!"

Santana turns off the stove and removes the chicken from the burner. "This is important, Quinn." She takes a step closer to her wife, her eyes sparkling. "Probably the most important trip I've ever been on."

Quinn tosses the confirmation back on the counter, her shoulders slumping. She looks tired. "You promised me that we could have a real vacation together. We haven't been on one since our honeymoon two years ago."

Santana reaches for the confirmation and steps closely to Quinn. She flips a couple of the stapled pages over and holds the new page out for Quinn to see. "I know. That's why you're coming with me."

Quinn glances down at the confirmation only to see her name sprawled across the top. "What?"

"You always said you wanted to travel, to see the world before you settled down." Santana drops the papers back on the counter. She reaches out to wrap her arms around Quinn's waist. "I want to start now. I want to take you to the places you've always wanted to see and then I want to settle down with you. Really settle down."

"But your job - "

"I'm done," Santana says with a small smile. "I'm not a field agent anymore. Effective today."

"How?" Quinn asks incredulously. "I mean, is it really that simple?"

Santana shrugs. The process of leaving the field and taking a desk job isn't what's important. Not now. "You told me that the only way you'd ever have kids with me is if I took a desk job. The agency offered me one, and I took it."

All of the anger and disappointment seems to immediately roll off of Quinn. "Santana…"

"I told them it was either that or I'd leave. And we both know I'm too amazing to let go," Santana shrugs.

"I'm just… I don't even…" Realization etches across Quinn's face. She's beyond relieved to finally know the reason behind her wife's catty remarks and forgetfulness with helping out around the house. She had no idea what Santana was up to. "Is this why you've been so on edge lately? Planning this trip, your job…"

"I haven't been on edge!" Santana protests.

Quinn arches a brow, her arms finally slipping around Santana's neck. "You snapped at me for washing your shirts in hot water."

"It makes the colors bleed together!" Santana whines. Quinn merely looks at her. Santana sighs, knowing she's been found out. "It might have had something to do with it." She leans in to kiss Quinn softly, smiling against her lips. "I knew you'd be pissed when you saw the confirmation. If you'd only flipped the damn pages."

"Okay, okay," Quinn chuckles knowing she jumped to conclusions. "You always know how to charm me out of being upset with you."

Santana lets it slide that she technically didn't do anything wrong and kisses her again. "So does that mean you're up for a change of plans? And maybe talk about starting a family with me?"

Quinn smiles and holds Santana's face in her hands. "You know I am," she says softly. "Starting a family with you would mean everything to me." Her stomach does somersaults at the idea of having children with Santana. She leans in to Santana, brushing her lips across Santana's mouth. "But you still need to take out the trash," she mumbles.

Santana laughs and pulls Quinn closer. "Deal."

* * *

**Thank you all for the kind words and thank you for allowing me to write something cute and fluffy for Quinntana Week 2014! Now back to my other fic that I've been neglecting**...


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